


Tune Up Day

by zimathan (skyteglad)



Series: Space Invaders [2]
Category: Invader Zim
Genre: (SUPER light angst!), Dad!Zim, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:55:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23096683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyteglad/pseuds/zimathan
Summary: Gir hatches a master plan to cheer Zim up.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Series: Space Invaders [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1561276
Comments: 4
Kudos: 71





	Tune Up Day

_Master seems sad… ___

__It had been a prevalent thought nowadays as Gir watched Zim meander through the house, scrubbing already spotless floors and sinking into the cushions of the couch. The little SIR unit never really understood why - they got _tacos_ yesterday, or it’s nice and sunny outside, or the Angry Monkey Show is getting another movie next week, or, or, or…_ _

__None of those reasons really mattered, of course, and Gir knew it. He was well aware that just because _he_ was happy, didn’t mean Zim was. That was evident by his drooping antennae, his tired expression, his empty tone. The irken didn’t seem sad, he seemed downright _depressed_._ _

__Maybe it was because he needed to go outside, Gir had thought on Monday as he grabbed the remote from his master’s hand and threw it out the window. Zim had gone outside, had yelled at him, and nothing changed._ _

__Maybe it was because he was hungry, Gir had thought on Wednesday as he made Zim a _big_ tuna flavored cake. After begging and pleading, the alien had eaten the whole thing begrudgingly. He proceeded to get sick, and nothing changed. _ _

__Maybe it was because he missed the Dib, Gir had thought on Friday as he dragged the human to their home against his will. The two awkwardly held a conversation before Zim yelled at him to get out of his yard, with Dib shrugging and leaving, having not planned to investigate the alien today anyways. He went back inside, and nothing changed._ _

__Maybe it was because he missed the Tallest, Gir had thought on Sunday as he giggled to himself, dialing the Tallest’s line of contact. It was clear by the frantic yelling and panic that that wasn’t the case. Zim cried an hour later from the ordeal, and nothing changed._ _

__Maybe it was because… of Gir, Gir thought now as he watched Zim scrub the window for the seventieth time that week, throwing his focus into something he could control. The SIR unit didn’t like that thought - it would mean the robot had to disappear. After a long moment of thought, Gir decided _nahhh_._ _

__Gir wasn’t the issue, nor was fresh air, or hunger, or Dib or the Tallest. The SIR unit knew that, as he watched Zim mutter insults at himself. It was just… his PAK. Full of defects and bugs, short circuits similar to Gir’s own. Gir understood, and decided to try and break the recycled routine before it began to spiral further. If Zim wanted to clean, then he’d have to do what he did best._ _

__Make a massive mess._ _

__Hopping from the couch, the little minion beamed towards his irken master, loudly announcing his plans. “Imma go outside and run in the lawn, m’kay?” He ran to the door, stopping only when Zim asked him to wait. Gir’s hand was on the knob as he looked back towards his master with wide cyan eyes._ _

__The irken was frowning, brows furrowed as he quickly interrupted Gir’s plans. “You’re not in disguise. Not to mention it’s Tune Up Day, I don’t want you getting dirty before I have to clean you up.”_ _

__Clearly, this did not please the robot. Rather than pout or cry, however, he simply stared with a straight face. He turned the handle. “Gir.” He began to open the door. “ _Gir!_ ” He lifted his foot. Zim groaned, putting down the cleaner in his hand and rubbing his temples, frustration clear. “ _Fine_. Just, put on your disguise, don’t get too dirty, and take Minimoose with you, okay?” _ _

__With a hooray, Gir ran forward to hug Zim - earning his sigh and a pat - babbling out his myriad of thank you’s and ‘I’ll make you proud!’s. The irken responded with his ‘yes, yes’, and shoo’d the robot away to retrieve his disguise and moose-y companion. This was a brilliant idea, Zim, because now Gir could get _twice_ as messy._ _

__And he was going to. He was going to get _so. Absolutely. Filthy._ _ _

__It didn’t take but five minutes to locate and zip up his little doggy costume, squealing happily as he hugged the plush suit. It was so cozy, so comfortable, and he liked to be soft! Minimoose was easy enough to locate, the little creature hovering absently around the kitchen. Through understanding of the robot’s daily routine, Gir deciphered that Minimoose was simply searching and waiting for snacks to arrive._ _

__Soon, after a series of explanations and squeaking, the two had set off outside. And soon, after a series of mayhem and a plethora of _mud_ and crying children complaining about their ice cream, Gir was properly _coated_ in filth. The two minions enjoyed their outside time, with Gir chasing anything and everything that moved, rolling in the grass and mud and trash, and with Minimoose terrorizing the local passer-byers with his telekinesis. Oh, you think you’re holding your keys? No you aren’t!_ _

__Half an hour had passed by the time Zim called for them to return - during that time, the SIR unit had initiated a wrestling match with the doomsday device, and that went about how one would expect: with Minimoose the clear victor in all his nubby glory. Gir whined at the moose, begging to be let up, but the purple creature simply squeaked in victory and continued to sit upon the plush-suited robot._ _

__Zim was not a patient man._ _

__After about two minutes of waiting for the minions to arrive, the irken stepped outside, grumbling under his breath. It seemed he had expected the two to have travelled far away from the base as he nearly walked past them, before Gir let out a pleading wail. That caught Zim’s attention; the irken whipping around to stare at the two with an accusatory glare._ _

__“Why did you not come when I ca-a-a _lled GIR you are DISGUSTING!_ ” The mighty invader recoiled, looking absolutely repulsed by the amount of mud, dirt, grime and uncertain brown substance that lay on the unit’s coat. He prayed it was chocolate. Minimoose lifted from his pinning, giving a pleasant greeting to his master. It was well received with a wave and a cross-armed glare Gir’s way._ _

__“Minimoose wouldn’t let me up!” The minion looked so dismayed, so sad to have disobeyed Zim. “He - he kept me stuck under his moosiness…” The irken squinted, watching as the SIR unit got to his feet and put his little black paws behind his back. “I wanted to come, I wannated do you good!” He hung his oversized head, looking up with innocent eyes and kicking his foot along the dirt._ _

__Zim was quiet for a few moments. “Yes, okay, but you’re covered in stink -” He was cut off by a wail as Gir pointed at Minimoose. “ _He made me taked too loooong!_ ”_ _

__Minimoose nya’d innocently. A clawed hand went to the irken’s face as he slid it down agonizingly. “ _Gir_ , you _know_ Minimoose is unbeatable in wrestling.” He crouched down to meet the SIR unit at eye level. “Zim forgives you for not coming when he asked, but _why_ are you _coated_ in dookie.”_ _

__“Oh, this is ice cream!” His upset had vanished._ _

__The alien stared at him, dumbfounded and lost for words. That answered _nothing_. And yet… answered so much, all the same. Groaning low and loud, Zim stood up and begrudgingly picked Gir up - who giggled and threw his nasty little paws around his master’s neck. “Come on, Minimoose. It’s Tune Up Day, and you’re both filth goblins.”_ _

__The trio entered the base once more, with Zim not letting Gir touch _anything_ and Minimoose happily floating behind them. The living room was now spotless - _near_ spotless, the irken had decided, as his eyes spotted a small, dried up stain in the corner of the room. He had to ignore it for now - focusing too much on it would just end up letting Gir loose to destroy the rest of the house._ _

__Soon, they arrived inside the bathroom. After waiting for Minimoose to join them, Zim slid Gir against his hip and balanced him there so he could lock the door. (Gir decided to squish his fluffy cheek against the irken’s, letting out a happy, mechanical whir.) Silently, the alien thanked whatever holy being there was in the universe that he had had the insight to apply a fresh glue coating this morning._ _

__Placing the SIR unit on the counter, Zim gagged gently at the sensation of dirt and grime on his skin. Filthy, nasty, disgusting. Mumbling obscenities at this situation, the irken helped Gir out of his disguise, peeling away the now matted, muddied suit. At least the metal hadn’t gotten dirty, Zim thought to himself, but Gir had other plans. As the irken turned, ready to go and wash the suit, the robot hatched a diabolical little plan, launching from his perch into the suit. With a yelp and a truly _maniacal_ cackle, it took seconds for the previously clean metal coating to be layered in the same messy soup that browned the green suit. Zim shouted, startled by the fact that the suit had been ripped from his hands, and Gir, with a faux innocence, hugged the plush suit and stuck his tongue out._ _

__In a confused daze, the robot’s beloved master looked around for what on _Earth_ just happened, only to finally seem to realize. Gir smiled happily up at the irken, expecting to be yelled at! He didn’t _like_ being yelled at, but Zim liked to be loud, so it was okay. But… instead, the expression the irken wore was one of exhausted despair. The smile fell from the minion’s face, and even Minimoose seemed to sense the upset - giving a small, worried squeak and hovering closer to the two. Before Gir could speak and ask why he wasn’t yelling, Zim raised his hands and signalled for him to not._ _

__“Okay. Okay.” The irken’s arms dropped to his sides, antennae drooping as he took in a deep breath. “Please just, give me the suit, Gir.” Gir watched as his master held out his hand, not expecting the robot to comply. After a moment, his own little antenna dropping, the minion handed over the suit, looking down at the floor._ _

__Was… was he not helping?_ _

__Zim took the suit, putting it into the bathtub and scrubbing soap into its fibers. After a few minutes of silence - something so rare that the base itself seemed to shift with how uncomfortable it was - the irken finally spoke, attention still locked into the suit. “I’m sorry I’ve been neglecting you two lately.”_ _

__Minimoose landed on top of his sibling’s head, the two waiting for their master to go further._ _

__“I’m sorry for neglecting my duties, as well. Zim does not blame you for acting out -” Gir kicked his foot out of guilt. “- I hope you two can forgive me.”_ _

__… Of course Gir forgave him. Master was so silly. Rushing forward, the SIR unit wrapped his small, mechanical arms around the irken’s torso and chimed, “You so silly, a’course we forgives you! We loves you, and you _tha_ best!” Minimoose clearly agreed, giving an enthusiastic _‘nya’_ that held its own motivational speech in the single syllable. “Don’t be so _saaad_ , you tha best master we could ever ask for.”_ _

__The irken stared back at the robots as they hugged him. Reassuring as they were, it… didn’t do much to soothe him. With a faint, forced smile, Zim gave a brief nod and focused yet again on scrubbing the soap into the plush suit. He nudged the two minions away, stepping back as he turned on the water of the bathtub, wincing at the sound of the heinous liquid splash against the ground. Glue or no glue, water was scary. Waiting for the suit to be submerged, Zim turned the water off and flipped the drain handle to ensure it had time to soak._ _

__“Master?” Gir’s inquiry earned a perked antenna. “Why are you so sad?” His voice, usually so energetic and chaotic, carried an unnaturally solemn lilt to it. It earned a startled glance from the irken, who frowned._ _

__The two siblings whimpered gently, concerned about their beloved master. After a few moments of looking back and forth between them, Zim cracked a genuine smile, a small chuckle escaping from him. He’d been careless._ _

__With a puff of his chest and a boastful pose, the invader grinned wide and shook his head. “Just a little out of it, but you know what? Zim shouldn’t be _sad_ , ha! _I am ZIM_ , no silly _schmoopy garbage_ can keep ME down!” With his energy boosted, he gave a loud cry of victory, to which his minions quickly mimicked - Minimoose thrilled by the sudden switch and waving his nubby feet in the air, and Gir screaming happily._ _

__All in this tiny restroom._ _

__Okay, okay, that’s too much noise, Zim quickly decided, grin still on his face as he propped his fists against his hips. “You two are STILL absolutely disgusting!” Gir giggled wildly at that, the tone in the irken’s voice still lighter than it had been the past week._ _

__Scooping Gir up once more, Zim sat the SIR unit back on the counter and wagged his finger at him. “Stay.” Crouching down, the irken rummaged through the cabinets. Meanwhile, Minimoose floated next to Gir, grinning wildly and wiggling his feet at Gir’s antenna. Gir giggled and wiggled his hands up at Minimoose._ _

__This soon divulged into a slapping contest._ _

__Because of _course_ it did._ _

__The joyful little smiles turned competitive as the two slapped at each other - the _whoosh_ of air catching Zim’s antennae enough to let him know what they were doing. Inhaling slowly, the irken considered his options: wait this out and deal with it later, pretending he hadn’t just found the spray and rag he needed, or stop these two from their silly game. Oooof course, he knew which option he was _supposed_ to take, and with a heavy exhale, stood back up, grabbing both of their hands (or, nub, in Minimoose’s case) and shooting them both a scolding glare._ _

__“Why di -”_ _

__“HE STARTED IT!” Gir was quick to point blame, wailing on impact as if he had been scolded wrongfully. The doomsday device huffed, looking indignant as he glared Gir’s way and gave a contradictory squeak. Zim didn’t even want to know that, just looking at them both with a baffled, tired expression._ _

__“Okay! Okay. Just stop doing it! No more hitting, we are doing _cleaning_ time now.” The irken let go of them, gesturing at them both. After a bout of mumbled apologies and both of the minions looking dejected, Zim carefully grasped the moose from the air._ _

__Sitting on the toilet, the irken held Minimoose in his arms, looking him over and scrutinizing just how messy he was. It wasn’t _too_ bad, but still enough to make him want to scrub every inch. The potato-shaped creature wiggled, looking delighted for whatever reason._ _

___Nya!_ “Yes, I’m cleaning you first.” _Nya?_ “Because Gir touches the ground and likes to make messes more.” _Nyaaaa?_ “Minimoose, are you trying to antagonize Gir right now?” _... Nya.__ _

__Gir, being the good little minion he was, remained on the counter, but scooted closer to the edge to watch the two. “Whadhe say, whadhe say!”_ _

__Before Zim could respond, Minimoose looked at Gir, stared him straight in the eye… and gave a very, very taunting squeak. The SIR unit stared, appalled, devastated, like he had just been a sim who’s mother was called a llama. “ _Minimoose_ -” Zim stifled a laugh, forcing a stern tone. Booping the snout of the creature, the irken shook his head._ _

__“Both of you stop and I’ll get you food. Deal?”_ _

__Naturally, _naturally_ , that earned a unanimous applause of agreement, with Zim having to work on calming them down. The act of transgression against Gir had been quickly forgotten, the SIR unit now babbling excitedly over what food they could eat._ _

__There were hamburgers, hot dogs, waffles, tacos, burritos, pizzas - that new soup place opened, oh - oh - and that one place that sells, like, seven types of spaghettis! And chicken, and dumplings, and sushi, and spinach, and -_ _

__As Gir listed every food on Earth, categorizing everything he had tried in his life, it seemed, Zim got to work on scrubbing Minimoose down. Spritzing very carefully, the irken worked on cleaning the dirt and spots off of the doomsday device, working gently and thoroughly. The entire time, the minion conversed with Gir, squeaking in response to his list, adding his own little experiences in.  
Funnel cakes - Minimoose rolled over to help Zim reach more areas - and cheesecake, turkey, pudding - don’t forget behind the antlers! - and jello. Frosting and peanut butter and - the moose giggled and squirmed as the spray tickled his side - ice cream and butterscotch. The distraction worked well for the irken, who quickly finished cleaning Minimoose up pretty quickly! With the purple creature all finished up, he was released into the air like a balloon, and Zim patted his lap for Gir to come over._ _

__The two siblings kept up their babbled conversation, eventually drifting from just listing foods to how they liked them. Standing from his perch on the counter, Gir booped his little clawed metal hand against Minimoose’s snout and hopped onto the irken’s lap - earning a small _oof_ and a head pat. It was a good thing Gir was made of a lightweight metal, otherwise Zim would be hurting from the amount of times the SIR unit _jumped_ on him. _ _

__“Master, what’re _your_ favie foods?” He finally asked as Zim sprayed the top of his head and began to scrub at some of the dirt caked on. The invader was _definitely_ going to need another rag. Lifting him under the arms, Zim tucked Gir against his side again and tossed the cloth in the sink, getting on his knees to search in the cupboards for another._ _

__The question itself was given a small hum, needing contemplation for the time being. “Do you mean Earth food, or Irken food?” _That_ question got an answer of ‘yes’ - ever helpful, Gir was. Chuckling at the response, Zim gave a lopsided grin, grabbing two new rags and placing them on the counter, using it to push himself back up._ _

__“Well, Zim likes... candy?” The irken sat back down, repositioned Gir - again - and began - again - to clean him up. This time, much more easily! Thank you, clean rag. “Uhhh, Earth Fun Dip is tasty. Salads and fruits, too -”_ _

__“So, the yucky stuff?” The robot looked back at his master, smiling with his tongue out in a faux disgusted manner. “All those greenie thingies people on Earth hate!”_ _

__“Do you hate it?” “Nope!” “Why do you think it’s yucky then?” “Becaaaaause -” Gir scoffed. “- the TV people said so! Duh.” Fair enough. For a second, Zim was worried. Did that mean he didn’t fit in well enough? “Well, Zim also enjoys cakes too, and all those sweets _hhhumans_ seem to enjoy! Especially, uhh… that milk cake!”_ _

__Milk cake? Gir tilted his head at the mention - giving Zim a chance to really get into that portion of his cranium. “Whazzat?”_ _

__“The, eh, dress let-chas cake. The one that _foul human_ urged me to try on Cultural Day at skool last year.”_ _

__Gir stared at the irken, squinting slightly. “... You mean, tres leches?”_ _

__“...”_ _

__“...”_ _

__“HAH, yes! That is EXACTLY what I meant, _AND_ what I said! Tres leches. Delicious.”_ _

__Oh, duh! Silly Gir, of course that’s what Master said! Nodding, the robot giggled and babbled on about the cake, lifting his arms to help with the process. “Yeh, duh. It meeeeeans three milks! They puts, like, lotsa cream on top and stuff, it’s real tasty! ‘Moose, have yoooou had a tres leches yet?” _Nya!_ “I’ll make you one some time!”_ _

__The three conversed while Gir was washed - the topic lingered on cake the entire time. According to the SIR unit, bologna on cakes was delicious! Absolutely debatable, but so be it. By the time he was clean, all sparkly and new, Zim had interrupted the conversation._ _

__Toting Gir, yet again, under his arm, the irken led the group into the living room. “If we are to go and fetch your _disGUSTING_ food, I’m going to need to set you two up in a new disguise.” Putting the robot down on the floor, the alien hummed to himself in thought. Truly, they would need something good, something so amazing and disguisey that it’d fool the humans._ _

__Aha!_ _

__Grabbing a red hoodie from the closet - careful to not reactivate the strange, horrible parent drones - Zim made his plans. Slipping the hoodie onto Gir, the irken pulled the hood over his head and grabbed a string, tying it to Minimoose’s foot. Genius! “Zim has outdone himself this day, eh?” Proudly puffing out his chest, the irken put on his own brilliant disguise - contacts and a wig._ _

__They were the picture of a perfectly normal human existence._ _

__“Come, Gir, Minimoose! Let us go acquire your filthy Earth food!” A resounding cheer shouted from the two, and with an ignored command to the base, they were off._ _

__Sadly, they were not ‘allowed’ to ‘drive’ a ‘car’ because Zim wasn’t technically ‘finished’ with driving ‘skool’ and couldn’t have a ‘’’’’’’’’’’’license‘’’’’’’’’’’’ yet. Stupid, pathetic Earth rules, Zim is already well versed in vehicular man-slaughter and should not have to be schooled in how to avoid it. No matter! Taking Gir’s hand and the string attached to Minimoose, Zim began the walk to the heinous Krazy Tacos, so Gir may… get his krazy on._ _

__Seconds later, he dragged the two back inside. Nope, not with his SIR unit on the loose. Grabbing a toddler leash, he hooked it onto Gir, and _then_ began the trek._ _

__-_ _

__“Man, that was craaaazy.” The trio returned to the oddly structured house a few hours later, an absurdly large brown paper bag curled up in Zim’s arms. Minimoose, now adorned in a baseball cap, squeaked in agreement, while Gir threw his arms in the air, a little bit of ice cream dripping from his cone._ _

__“I knoooow, that squirrel was like -” He began to wave his arms rapidly, screaming and making gurgling noises - stopping in the middle to imitate a normal squirrel before screaming again. “- and the, the dog! That dog _’sploded_ like - BOOOOSHSHSHSH - and -”_ _

__“I thought that was a lady,” Zim spoke up, contradicting Gir’s statement of a dog exploding._ _

__“No, no, that was a dog. Poodle, right?” _Nya!_ “Yeah, poodle.”_ _

__“Zim is outvoted on this, huh.” Yeah, uh huh, yep. “Well, then. Regardless, I’ve got yooour…” The irken placed the bag onto the little coffee table in the living room, rifling through the bag and pulling out each item as he said it. “Double MacKrazy Meat, three enchiladas with extra sauce, four cups of mayonnaise, a triple-decker taco with extra pickles, aaaand…” Fishing through the bag, Zim pulled out a large handful of taco sauce packets. “Some taco sauce for the ‘Moose. Y’know, I’m still shocked MacMeaties and Krazy Taco partnered up, that Double MacKrazy Meat sounds… absolutely atrocious.”_ _

__Gir had taken his treasures, arranging them neatly around him on the couch - just another thing his master would need to clean later. “Doesn’t it!” He chimed, eager to take a massive bite - wrapper and all - into the extremely greasy meat blob. It was two-parts napkins, one-part genuine meat, and all-parts vile. Gagging gently at the sight, the irken untied Minimoose from his brilliant balloon disguise (ie. string), and plopped onto the couch besides his minion._ _

__Eyeing his minion up, Zim hatched a plan - it’d be a massive timesaver, after all… Slowly, the alien reached behind him - a PAK leg extending to hand him a wrench. His movements, cautious and calculated, brought him very close to the robot’s cranium. If he just got a little closer --_ _

__Spotting his master, the SIR unit began to scream, launching himself off the couch and into the floor, his food flying everywhere. Realizing that this could be a _game_ his screaming drifted into giggles, and Gir sprung to his feet. Oh no. Without giving Zim more than a second to realize what was going on, Gir was off, sprinting towards the kitchen with all his might, yelling loudly as he did. For dramatics._ _

__“Dammit, Gir - !” Of course he’d start running! This was _Gir_ we’re talking about. Groaning, the irken climbed off the couch, tossing the wrench onto the cushions, and staring straight at the SIR unit, who had stopped. It was like a good, old fashion showdown, the two staring at each other, not moving a muscle._ _

__That is, until the robot stuck his tongue out teasingly. Letting out a yell, Zim charged forward, indulging the minion in a game of chase - one Gir eagerly accepted as he spun around and zipped through the house. Around the kitchen table, over the couch, out the door, the two continued their chase, yelling the entire time._ _

__Minimoose watched, settling onto the coffee table, eating an entire packet of taco sauce. Ah yes, antics. Very amusing._ _

__Before long, the tireless robot had cornered himself, gasping as his master neared… step by step, snickering sinisterly. “Zim’s gotcha, Giiiir.” Flexing his claws intimidatingly, the irken paused, ready to lunge. “Y’can’t escape now!”_ _

__Zim launched forward and the SIR unit ducked down, rushing under Zim’s legs and giggling wildly as the alien ran face first into the corner of the room. The painful crash got another groan out of the irken, who stumbled backwards as he clutched his injured face. Glaring Gir’s way, Zim growled gently, a spidery leg popping from his PAK, winding through the air and hooking onto the hood of the robot’s hoodie. “Nope, no more, I win.”_ _

__This absolutely counted as cheating, the robot wanted to declare - how rude of his master to cheat in their game! All that he managed out, though, was a whine and a thrash as he was lifted into the air. Fine. Zim wins. Crossing his arms, Gir huffed, pouting dramatically as his master carried him back into the living room and plopped him on the couch._ _

__“Can I do your tune up _now_ , Gir?” The irken grabbed the fallen food from the floor and gave it to the SIR unit to prevent him from running. He had won the chase, and they had an unspoken respect that if Zim wins, Gir doesn’t run off again, but it was still better safe than sorry._ _

__Getting cozy in his spot of defeat, the little robot happily took his fallen allies, shoving one of the remaining mayonnaise cups into his mouth. Delicious atrocity. Looking up at his master, Gir grinned wide and hummed, contemplating for a moment. “Mmm, whad’ya saaaay?”_ _

__Oh, time to reinforce manners? Says the robot eating straight up _mayo_? This brought a groan out of Zim. Fine, fine! Slapping a hand over his face, he dragged it down agonizingly, before sighing. “Fine, can I _pleeeease_ do your tune up?” The word ‘please’ was spoken as entirely mocking, but it was better than nothing! Gir gave a happy nod, allowing the irken to climb beside him on the couch, wrench in hand._ _

__“Can we watch TV?” “No.” “Pleeeeease?” “No, you’ll put something terrible on.” “ _Pleeeeeeeeeeeeease_?” “N -” Gir broke out into screaming. “FINE, fine! But Minimoose is picking.” _Nya!__ _

__Minimoose then conspired to put something terrible on._ _

__Dealing with the hell he had written himself into, Zim begrudgingly let them watch whatever horrible Earthly filth the television brought to them. Despite hating the show selected, it was nice having background noise to help focus on his task at hand - which was, while Gir was eating, tuning up the inside of his head. It was harder to tune up the rest of him while he was busy, so Zim’d have to wait until that was done, but this was the, uh… hard part, so it’s best to get it done first._ _

__Everything seemed to be decently in place - it was a really good idea for him to have added that spot for Gir to stick random junk, otherwise random junk would be _everywhere_. He did have to take out a carton of spoiled eggs, scrunching up his face and holding them questioningly in front of Gir. Why? “Those’re m’Easter eggs! I hid them!” Eugh, inside his head? Zim put them on the table, nudging them away as to avoid the smell._ _

__He didn’t avoid the smell at all, but whatever._ _

__Screwing a few nuts and bolts tighter, it took only about an episode of garbage Earth television to finish up his head. Why did Minimoose like the _weirdest_ reality shows? ~~Okay, maybe Zim was extremely interested in this, but he had to keep up his cool, suave invader act and not give into the dealings of watching humans eat worms.~~ With Gir now happily full of fast food and free to move his arms, Zim set off to tuning up and checking the rest of him._ _

__The second worst part about tuning Gir up… was the stomach. Arms, legs, and joints? Yeah, that’s easy! But Gir ate a lot of things. A lot. Of things. The first few years on Earth had been the worst - simply due to the fact that, when Gir ate something, it was just dropped into his chest cavity. Since then, Zim had grown wiser, installing a bag to catch the food, sort of like a ‘stomach’. It made cleaning up the mess a lot easier, especially since Gir didn’t _need_ to eat. He simply _liked_ to._ _

__Out from his PAK sprouted an x-ray-esc device and a new trashbag to hook up. Gir, having grown bored of watching Zim do his tune up stuff, was gleefully inraptured in the glories of human’s rolling around in mustard and ketchup in the hopes to win a large sum of monies. Scanning the stomach bag, the irken searched for any non-food entities - the amount of important things Gir has swallowed… Nothing! Good. Removing the sack, he quickly chucked the spoiled eggs inside and closed the bag up, inserting a new one and getting to work on finishing up._ _

__“You haven’t eaten anything important in two months, Gir! I’m very proud of you.” Closing the robot back up, Zim was done, getting to his feet to take out the garbage. With a happy squeal, Gir wrestled his hoodie into submission, standing on the couch with a light bounce. Yes, he has been doing a good job! Maybe Master will feel happier with his progress!_ _

__As the irken returned to begin on Minimoose, Gir jumped from the couch, launching into Zim and grabbing his hand. With a spin, the SIR unit led him forcefully back into the sofa, leaving a dazed, confused irken in the cushions. “Wh - Gir, I -” The minion pounced, jumping straight into the alien’s lap and earning a pained groan. Minimoose, taking note immediately of Gir’s plans, let out a squeak and attacked as well, shoving himself into Zim’s chest._ _

__Sputtering wildly, the irken coughed. “What’s going on?” Gir stood up in his lap, leaning forward to grab the blanket from off the back of the couch. It was beautiful, adorned with a nacho chip design and splattered in a few nacho cheese stains. Wrapping it around his shoulders, he dove against his master and sibling, wrapping them all in the cheesy fabric._ _

__“It’s time you took a break! You been in here cleanin’ aaaaaall month, doin’ nothin’ but _schmoop_. So Minimoose and I are holding you hostage for the rest of the night!” Gir snuggled against the two while the purple moose gave an affirmative squeak. _ _

__Confused, Zim furrowed his brows. “But Zim needs to -” He was quickly cut off by the doomsday device shoving his little nubby foot-thing against his mouth. With an insistent squint, Minimoose leaned close to his master, and with all the might in his little, potato-shaped body, he spoke._ _

___”Nya.”_ _ _

__Well, that was all the convincing Zim needed! He was still puzzled, but a small smile stretched across his lips anyways. It’d been clear how worried Gir had been, so… maybe he should take the rest of the day to chill out. And Minimoose did raise a good point - he could just finish his tuning up tomorrow. Letting out a long, defeated sigh, the irken puffed his chest out and wrapped his arms around his minions._ _

__“Fine! Tonight, we can watch horrible Earth shows - for research! - and _tomorrow_? Tomorrow shall commence Tune Up Day… TWO!” _ _

__With an excited yell from both of the minions, the irken set his sights on the TV, secretly happy to be defeated. Gir wrapped his arms around Zim’s chest, nuzzling his cheek against him and feeling proud of himself. Even if it was temporary, he managed to help. Even if it was temporary, Zim seemed happier._ _

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my amazing fiance for helping edit this! Time for me to bless this fandom with some Dad!Zim...
> 
> (Also, in case anyone wants to know, my IZ tumblr is @ zimathan!)


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